Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/281

 237. The Lover's Resolution

Shall I, wasting in despair, Die because a woman's fair? Or make pale my cheeks with care 'Cause another's rosy are? Be she fairer than the day, Or the flow'ry meads in May, If she think not well of me, What care I how fair she be?

Shall my silly heart be pined 'Cause I see a woman kind? Or a well disposèd nature Joinèd with a lovely feature? Be she meeker, kinder, than Turtle-dove or pelican, If she be not so to me, What care I how kind she be?

Shall a woman's virtues move Me to perish for her love? Or her well-deservings known Make me quite forget my own? Be she with that goodness blest Which may merit name of Best, If she be not such to me, What care I how good she be?

'Cause her fortune seems too high, Shall I play the fool and die? She that bears a noble mind, If not outward helps she find,